


We Gotta Get Out of This Place

by carrionkid



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 17:30:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11468289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrionkid/pseuds/carrionkid
Summary: This was written for my friend Shady, the Vav to my X-Ray and an all around awesome person! They came up with the plot of Peter going after slavers to make Yondu proud after he found out about his childhood, they also asked for a Centaurian girl saving his life and getting adopted by the crew. Then, they just let me go wild with the concept! This was a lot of fun!The title is from the song by the Animals. Anyway, Peter's in the anger step of the grieving process and it's starting to show in his work, which prompts Gamora to tell him to find something more productive to do instead of just doing reckless shit impulsively.--When Peter looks up, she can see tears in his eyes, he swallows hard, “I just want to do something that matters. Something that makes what he did worth it.”Gamora lets out an exasperated sigh, “He gave his life for you! You don’t have to earn that! You were his son! He did that because he thought you were worth saving.”“I just want to make him proud!” Peter isn’t sure exactly when he started yelling, or when he actually started crying, but it’s too late to take any of it back.





	We Gotta Get Out of This Place

“Peter, you have to stop doing things like this,” Gamora says, voice quiet. None of them wanted to be the one to have this discussion with him, but by virtue of her being the closest to him, Gamora ended up being the one in charge of it.

 

“Doing what?” Peter doesn’t look up from where he’s wrapping his hands. His knuckles are already starting to bleed through the bandage holding the Synth-Skin against the red, raw wounds. He winces as he does it and Gamora can see him biting his tongue.

 

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about!”

 

“I’m not acting like anything,” he still won’t look at her.

 

She grabs his arm, stopping him from wrapping the bandages and forcing him to look up, “Since you can’t be mature enough to own up to it, I guess I’ll just have to explain. You keep throwing yourself into stupid situations and getting hurt needlessly! We’re all worried about you!”

 

“You don’t have to be worried!” He jerks his arm away from her, “You just have to back me up!”

 

“We aren’t gonna back you up if you keep doing this! It’s like you’re _trying_ to get yourself killed!”

 

Peter sighs and looks back down at his hands.

 

“Are you…” Gamora trails off, then shakes her head, “Look, I know it hurts. I watched Thanos slaughter my family in front of me, and it still hurts. But you can’t stay in that moment forever.”

 

“Whatever,” Peter rolls his eyes.

 

“No! Not ‘whatever’!” She throws her arms up in the air, “We need you, Peter, and that means you have to snap out of whatever this is!”

 

“I shoulda done more,” he says, so quietly that she almost doesn’t hear it, “I couldn’t do anything for my mom, ‘cos I was too young, but I should’ve done something for him.”

 

“You should’ve done _what_? He made up his mind and nothing would’ve stopped it!”

 

If things were different, if it wasn’t still so raw, Gamora would’ve added ‘I can see where you get it from’, but this isn’t the time or the place.

 

Instead, she puts her hand on his shoulder, “I get it, you have to take all this pain, all this anger, and use it. But you don’t have to use it so _recklessly._ ”

 

When Peter looks up, she can see tears in his eyes, he swallows hard, “I just want to do something that matters. Something that makes what he did worth it.”

 

Gamora lets out an exasperated sigh, “He gave his life for you! You don’t have to earn that! You were his son! He did that because he thought you were worth saving.”

 

“I just want to make him proud!” Peter isn’t sure exactly when he started yelling, or when he actually started crying, but it’s too late to take any of it back.

 

“Fine, we’ll find something to do, as long as it helps,” Gamora sighs, “And before you say it, we’re not becoming Ravagers, even if it would make Yondu proud.”

 

“C’mon Gamora,” he laughs weakly, “Who doesn’t wanna be a space pirate?”

 

She smiles and takes his hands in her own, “I still don’t know why you preface everything with ‘space’... But I think you should talk to Rocket.”

 

* * *

 

 

He finds Rocket where he always is, down in the depths of the ship and tinkering with something. The lower levels of the Quadrant are pretty much his territory now and there’s an unspoken understanding that people should leave him alone whenever he’s down there, but this is a desperate time and as the saying goes, it calls for desperate measures.

 

“Hey…” Peter isn’t exactly sure how to start or really what he’s asking about anyway, but Gamora seemed very intent on getting him to talk to Rocket.

 

“You better not be here to tell me you broke somethin’ else,” Rocket’s voice spills out of the depths of a wire-filled space underneath the floor, “Cos we don’t got the units to deal with it. When are you gettin’ us another job again?”

 

“I’m actually not here to talk about that…”

 

Rocket pokes his head up from the crawlspace, “Well, spit it out already.”

 

“Uh…” Peter rubs the back of his neck and shifts from side to side, “I’m… uh… Here to talk about Yondu? Gamora said I should...”

 

Rocket looks sad, just for a second, and then his expression shifts back to normal, “Didn’t know him too well.”

 

“I know, I know, but I think you and Gamora both know something that I don’t and I kinda don’t wanna be left out.”

 

Rocket ducks back down into the crawlspace and resumes fiddling with the wires sticking out, “We talked on the way to Ego’s planet.”

 

Peter furrows his brows, “About me?”

 

“Not about you, idiot,” Rocket adds, but there’s no anger behind it, “We talked about him.”

 

Rocket can’t see the confused look on Peter’s face, but he must’ve sensed it because he continues, “He said we were a lot alike.”

 

“What does that have to do with me doing something to make him proud? Just tell me what Gamora thinks you need to tell me!”

 

“Fine, but don’t come to me when you want me to keep _your_ secrets.”

 

Peter throws his hands up in the air, “If anything _I_ should be the one who knows… Whatever it is, since he was my _dad!_ ”

 

“Don’t go gettin’ mad at me if this wasn’t what you wanted to hear,” Rocket sticks his head back up, “But he told me his parents gave ‘im up to slavers as a baby.”

 

That… That is not what he expected to hear. Peter isn’t sure exactly _what_ he was expecting but it definitely wasn’t that.

 

“He never told me…” Peter whispers, mostly to himself.

 

“Who’d wanna remember something like that?”

 

As if on cue, Gamora steps into the room. It feels very much like an intervention, which is pretty much the last thing he wants to have happen.

 

“So you want me to go after slavers?” He hasn’t thought about it before, but it definitely falls into the category of ‘doing good’, and it probably would make Yondu proud.

 

“We can’t go after Thanos,” Gamora’s voice is soft and somber, “But we can stop people from hurting kids like Yondu… Like me…”

 

“Okay,” Peter smiles, “So let’s find some slavers.”

 

* * *

 

 

“So, everyone’s okay with this, right?” Peter says, standing on the bridge, “Because this doesn’t exactly pay, not like our other jobs…”

 

Drax nods, “Ronan killed my daughter. She would smile down on me if she were to see me helping other children.”

 

Mantis, sitting by Drax, adds, “I would like to help other kids to find a nice home!”

 

“I. Am. _Groot!_ ” The little tree beats his fists against Peter’s shoulder.

 

“I know you’re excited,” Rocket wags a claw at him, “But you need to watch your language, little guy.”

 

Groot crosses his arms, “I am Groot.”

 

“So, uh, I guess you know,” Kraglin slips off of the wall, a shadow turned flesh, “Jus’ don’t go doin’ nothin’ stupid, there’s a reason we never took ‘em on before.”

 

Peter nods, “I know, but we can handle a lot more than you think. We _did_ save the galaxy twice! So, let’s find some slavers!”

 

“And how are you gonna do that?” Rocket asks, “Just call up someone and be like ‘ _Hello! I’d like to buy a kid!’_?”

 

“That is the most direct way to do it,” Drax replies.

 

Gamora pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, “That’s a horrible--”

 

“Great idea!” Peter cuts her off.

 

“I was being _sarcastic!_ No, we can’t just call around looking for slavers!”

 

“But consider this, we _can._ I know how to talk to these kinda people, I grew up with Ravagers!”

 

Kraglin sighs, “Pete, we had to save yer skin more times than I can count all ‘cos of you not thinkin’ before you talk.”

 

Peter throws his arm over Kraglin’s shoulder, “C’mon, I wasn’t that bad! Now, you got any especially nasty contacts I could see about findin’ some slavers?”

 

“We didn’t work wi’ slavers.”

 

“I know,” Peter may not sound like he’s pleading, but it’s obvious nonetheless, “I know but we have to find someone. We’re gonna do good.”

 

Kraglin sighs again, “There was one… Most of the fold looked the other way ‘cos he sold ‘em weapons and never made ‘em run people. But most of us knew ‘bout the… side business.”

 

Kraglin sits down at the comm and keys in a code. The screen stays empty for a few seconds, then the picture stabilizes and Peter takes Kraglin’s place in front of it. The man on the other side of the comm looks like what you’d expect of an underworld arms dealer. His four eyes glare at Peter like he’s trying to break him down and his hair looks greasy.

 

“Hi!” Peter says, more upbeat than he intended, “I’d like to buy a kid.”

 

Gamora, standing just out of view of the comm, buries her head in her hands, “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

 

“Waddya want?” The man continues to glare.

 

“Uh… A kid?”

 

“Waddya want it for? What kind d’ya want?” The man is starting to sound impatient.

 

“Uh…” Peter’s heart drops, his stomach twists and he feels nauseous, “We can talk about that when I get there.”

 

The man throws his head back and laughs, “I think I like what you’re thinkin’.”

 

Peter is 100% certain that they aren’t thinking the same thing at all and he’s also more than a little bit scared to consider what the man might be thinking, but he nods anyway.

 

“I’m sendin’ you coord’s now, be there in three rotations.”

 

Peter smiles awkwardly and hangs up.

 

“I can’t believe that worked,” Gamora blinks, wide eyed.

 

“I think I need to go take a shower,” Peter shakes his head, “‘Cos I feel _disgustin’_ , how did you guys work with him?”

 

“We didn’t, coupla other clans did.”

 

Peter shivers, “At least we’re gonna take him down.”

 

* * *

 

 

The coordinates lead them to a planet called Vincire, it’s only five jumps away. The planet looks average and unassuming; if they didn’t know there was a slaver operation on it, they’d never would’ve guessed. The surface is a soft pink-ish color; three sister planets also orbit the same star, close enough that they’re visible from the surface.

 

“Here’s the plan,” Peter says, motioning for everyone to join him, “I’ll go in first, since I was the only one he saw on the comm and we can catch him by surprise. Everyone else should just try to blend in unless I need help. Kraglin, you’re the getaway driver, hopefully it won’t come to that but sometimes things just happen.”

 

Kraglin makes a noise of acknowledgment as he begins the landing procedures.

 

“I don’t like this, Peter,” Gamora sighs, “You should have someone else with you.”

 

“I’ll be fine, it’s just one guy and we’re just gonna figure out where the rest of ‘em are so we can stop them!”

 

Once the Quadrant touches down, Peter gets up and opens the hatch. The port is already bustling, filled with people from a thousand other planets. He barely stops himself from bumping into a tall person with scaly skin. When he turns back, the rest of the crew is already gone.

 

“Oh shit,” he presses his hands against his head, “I knew I forgot something. He never told me where we were meeting!”

 

Oh well, the crew can’t be far. And they _are_ doing what he said, blending in and all, in fact they’re doing a hell of a good job at it. He puts his hand on the gun holstered to his thigh, just to feel less on edge, and starts walking again. The flow of the crowd guides him into what looks like a market place. There are a couple of stalls he’d like to stop at, ones with parts for Rocket, or knives for Drax, but he’s low on money and also on a mission.

 

“Okay, focus,” he whispers to himself, “Now, if I was a sleazy salesman, where would I be?”

 

Peter scans the area, no places look notably more shady than the rest of the marketplace. Then, he feels something pulling on his jacket. He looks to his left, no one’s standing by him; he looks to his right but there’s no one there either. Something pulls on his jacket again and he looks down. Holding onto the hem of his jacket is a small Krylorian kid. Their hair is long, but not messy, and they’re barefoot.

 

“I don’t have anything for you to take, kiddo, go pickpocket someone else, but be careful! Not everyone is as nice as I am.”

 

The kid shakes their head.

 

“Uh,” Peter taps his fingers against his thigh, thinking, “Are you lost?”

 

The kid doesn’t nod or shake their head no, instead, they point ahead.

 

“Okay, uh, lead the way, I guess,” He offers his hand to the kid, who looks at it like it might be poisonous. After some consideration, the kid takes his hand and starts walking. He is a legendary outlaw, but he’s also a Guardian of the Galaxy, and the galaxy includes lost little kids in a busy market place.

 

The kid weaves through the place at a speed that Peter can barely keep up with. They screech to a halt in front of a bar. As far as bars go, it’s not half bad. When they’re celebrating taking down slavers, he might bring the rest of Guardians here.

 

“You live in a bar?”

 

The kid cocks their head and looks at him, confused. Then, they start walking again, pulling Peter around the bar to a doorway in the alley. It leads to a staircase, which the kid takes them up. The staircase leads into a small hallway with a door at the end. It looks reinforced, way too reinforced for a bar. The kid drops Peter’s hand, knocks on the door three times, then steps back.

 

“I don’t think anybody’s home…”

 

The kid shakes their head again. Then, the door opens. Behind it is old Four Eyes himself.

 

“Fuck,” Peter mutters under his breath. Of course, this wasn’t just a kid that needed his help. Well, the kid _did_ need his help, just not in an innocent _I got lost at the marketplace_ kind of way.

 

“So I see you met Whisper,” the man laughs, “Come in, come in. Let’s talk business.”

 

Peter steps into the room and tries to ignore the shiver that runs down his spine as he crosses the threshold. Whisper follows after them. Four Eyes sits down in a chair, Whisper stops by his side, and gestures for Peter to do the same.

 

“Now, we don’t bother with names, it just makes things more… _complicated._ If you dunno me, an’ I dunno you, it’s harder for anyone to get in trouble.”

 

Peter nods.

 

“Now,” the man purses his lips, “Whisper is one of my favorites, but I might be willing to part with them for the right _price._ Whatever you might have in mind, they won’t complain,” he laughs, “They don’t have a tongue to do it with.”

 

Peter can taste bile in his throat, he swallows and asks, “How much?”

 

“How does sixty million units sound?”

 

He can’t play along, not anymore. Peter unholsters his gun and trains it on the man, he goes quadruple cross-eyed looking at the barrel of the gun.

 

“Who are you working for?” Peter does his best to keep his voice from shaking.

 

“No one, it’s just me!”

 

“I know that’s a lie! Who are you selling the kids for?!”

 

The man throws his arms up, “I don’t know, I told you, we don’t discuss names!”

 

“Where is the operation?!” Peter stands up and steps closer to the man, “I know you’re not stupid enough to have it on the same planet as where you’re selling them!”

 

“It’s on Ferrous, the-the-the sister planet,” the man pulls at the collar of his shirt, “I told you what you wanted to know, now you gotta let me go.”

 

“No way! You’re a _slaver!”_

 

“I just set up deals, I don’t take them!”

 

Peter puts his finger on the trigger of his gun, “Whisper, close your eyes.”

 

The man looks confused and opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but Peter pulls the trigger. The blast hits the man in the point between his eyes, a perfect bullseye, like Yondu always taught him. Whisper stares at the man’s body, eyes wide.

 

“C’mon, we’re gettin’ out of here,” Peter offers the kid his hand again.

 

Out in the hallway, he activates his comm, “The plan changed.”

 

“What did you do?” Gamora sounds angry, but there’s plenty of time to make it up to her.

 

“Did’ya mess everything up?” Rocket laughs.

 

Peter pauses, he can hear footsteps. Specifically, footsteps coming up the staircase. He guesses Four Eyes had backup. He switches the gun from kill to stun, no need to add another person to his body count. Then, he scoops Whisper up in his free arm.

 

He trains the gun down the staircase and fires off a stun bolt, which hits the first man in the group. The man freezes up and falls down, hitting the two people behind him. The others are better prepared and continue climbing up over their companions. Peter fires off another couple of bolts, sending the other two falling down. Then, he turns and runs back into the room.

 

There are a couple of windows, all of them are barred. Peter switches out of stun, it’s kind of awkward with one hand but he doesn’t have time to set Whisper down. He aims for the grates on the windows and pulls the trigger. The metal grates bend outward. He holsters his gun and runs for the window. As soon as he jumps, he uses his free hand to turn on his rocket boosters.

 

He hovers for a few seconds before bringing them down in the marketplace. It’s easier to disappear in a crowd of people. Once he’s certain they aren’t being followed, he turns the comm back on.

 

“Kraglin, I need you to prep us to leave.”

 

“Yessir.”

 

Peter keeps his pace brisk, running would attract attention and walking would make him easy to catch. Whisper wraps their arms around his neck and he uses his free hand to support them a little bit better. He isn’t sure exactly where he is, but the port has to be around here somewhere. He can’t stop to look around, so he keeps walking. Someone grabs his shoulder and he whips around, ready to pounce.

 

“What happened?” Gamora crosses her arms, standing in front of him.

 

“Gamora! You scared the,” Peter looks to the kid and stage whispers, “H-E-Double hockey sticks, out of me!”

 

“Hockey sticks?” She furrows her brows, “Nevermind, we need to leave, now!”

 

“I’m trying to!”

 

“Well, you’re going the wrong way!” she turns around and heads off. Peter runs after her.

 

* * *

 

 

They’re already up in the air, hovering over the system, when Kraglin says, “Uh, Pete, we kinda got a visitor…”

 

Whisper is still holding onto Peter’s leg, looking terrified. They wouldn’t let go during the whole takeoff process, and only let go to eat some food after the ship stabilized.

 

“What do you mean a _visitor?_ ”

 

“I mean--” Kraglin’s cut off by the sound of Gamora being thrown against a wall.

 

“What are you doing here?” Nebula bolts into the room, pinning Gamora against the wall.

 

“I could ask you the same thing!”

 

“You’re here because you want to win.”

 

“I thought we were over that!” Gamora kicks Nebula in the shin, she drops Gamora, who shoves her over.

 

“You ruined everything,” Nebula swipes Gamora’s feet out from under her with her robotic arm, “You always ruin everything!”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Gamora pushes her hair out of her eyes.

 

Nebula kneels down on her stomach, “Of course you do. Why else would you be here?”

 

“We’re just here ‘cos we wanted to stop some slavers,” Peter butts in.

 

Both girls pause, and turn to him, “Shut up!”

 

“Uh… Maybe… Maybe you girls should work together,” Kraglin adds in, “Like a family oughta…”

 

Nebula sighs and stands up, then offers Gamora a hand, “You jeopardized everything I’ve been working for, but you and your friends may be an asset to me.”

 

“What exactly are you doing here?” Peter asks.

 

“I’m trying to help children avoid sharing the same miserable life I endured under Thanos.”

 

“Oh, cool!” Peter smiles, “We’re doin’ the same thing. Look!” he gestures to Whisper, who peers out from behind his legs.

 

“You are stupid. But you have good intentions. You attempted to do this without a plan and alerted everyone to what we were both planning. Now it is going to be much harder to pull off.”

 

“Well, I did find out where the whole operation is! It’s on Ferrous, the four eyed a-hole told me, before I killed him…”

 

Nebula grits her teeth, “He was lying. It’s farther out, on the verge of uncharted space. It would have to be somewhere like that, so no one would stumble across it. My contacts are reliable, they assure me it is there. We will have to act quickly, so word doesn’t reach them and give them enough time to pack everything up.”

 

Gamora sighs, “So what do we have to do?”

 

“Call the rest of them. I need to think,” Nebula heads out of the room.

 

* * *

 

 

“So you’re tellin’ me,” Rocket drags his paws down his face, “That our plan is just break into the slavers’ headquarters, kill ‘em, and grab the kids?”

 

Nebula nods.

 

“You’re as bad as Quill! Just more violent!”

 

“Don’t compare me to _him,”_ Nebula scowls, “You each will have a job. Rocket, you will cause a distraction, something to draw everyone away from the children, and I trust that you can take them out.”

 

“What kind of a distraction are you thinking?” he has the glint in his eye that can only mean he’s already picturing the bomb he’s going to build.

 

Nebula replies, “Anything that will draw them away. Gamora, you’re coming with me to kill the ones in charge.”

 

“You aren’t gonna use this as a chance to prove you’re better than me, are you?” Gamora crosses her arms.

 

“This isn’t the time for childish games, sister. Quill, you will go after the children. Drax will follow you to keep you from being killed.”

 

Drax nods solemnly, “I am already extremely good at keeping Quill alive.”

 

“Seriously?!” Peter throws his hands up in the air, “My only job is not dying?!”

 

“You also have the job of getting the children out of there,” Nebula glares at him, then looks down at Whisper, asleep and leaned up against him, “You seem to already be good at dealing with the children.”

 

“Hey, that’s not fair! It’s not my fault that I’m the only one who’s ever been nice to them!”

 

Nebula sighs, “And that’s my point. You’re nice. Children like nice.”

 

“Fine. But I want to make sure that everyone here knows I’m not happy about this and also that I’m being underutilized as a member of this team!” Peter frowns, then adds, “Also, I want you all to know that I’d be crossing my arms right now if I didn’t have a kid asleep on me. Also, they’re drooling on me.”

 

“Now you know how me an’ Yondu felt all them years,” Kraglin mutters from the Pilot’s seat.

 

The corner of Nebula’s mouth quirks up, the closest thing to a smile any of them have seen from her, “Kraglin, you’ll fly us out of here.”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

Nebula scans the room, her eyes land on Mantis, “You can stay here, the children will be scared, you can help calm them.”

 

“I would be glad to help! I have helped many scared children!” Mantis smiles at the group; she meets Peter’s eyes, then wrings her hands, looking down at her feet, “I should not have said that, I am sorry…”

 

“Uh,” Peter rubs the back of his neck, the way he always does when things are awkward, “It’s okay, I’m, uh, dealing with the fact that all my half siblings are dead.”

 

“I am not dead!” Mantis shouts.

 

“I… I know that. It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

 

“ _I_ am Groot!”

 

Rocket looks from Groot to Nebula, “He wants a job, too.”

 

“He is a baby,” Nebula glares at Rocket, eyes somehow even darker than usual, “Why would you bring a baby to a battle?”

 

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Rocket gestures to the table of people, “None of us are exactly the product of good parentin’.”

 

Nebula shakes her head, “Take him along. Don’t get him killed. Don’t let him compromise your job.”

 

Groot smiles and nods, “I _am_ Groot.”

 

“We got ‘bout five more jumps ‘fore we’re as close as we can get to it,” Kraglin speaks up from the Pilot’s seat, “An’ then we’ll have to go a few kliks more. Gonna be there in a day, maybe less.”

 

Nebula nods, “Let’s go over the map now. I don’t want any of you to get lost. It would be very _inconvenient._ ”

 

* * *

 

 

The final jump puts them at a distance where they can see the planet, but the planet can’t see them. It’s far enough out that it isn’t on any map, unless you know who to ask. It doesn’t have a name; being nameless makes it harder to trace it. The planet itself is small, the surface is obscured by a marbling of black and grey cloud cover. All in all, it’s a depressing place.

 

Peter wasn’t expecting it to be a nice planet, in fact, he’s been picturing it pretty much like it is. Maybe with a few more scribbled lightning bolts and some kind of giant evil looking tower lair that you could see from outside the atmosphere. Still, seeing it in person is kind of scary. Everything so far has been so removed, so manageable. Four Eyes and his goons weren’t more than he could handle; Whisper was one kid, and saving them was important but this is a whole planet of Four Eyes and goons and Whispers.

 

Even worse, seeing it makes it all feel real. Peter’s stomach turns; this is the kind of place Yondu grew up in. Of course bad things go on in the galaxy. Bad things happen everywhere, they happened on earth, so of course they happened up here. Hell, he even used to be a part of the bad things that happened up here. He’s faced evil before, all of them have, but it’s always loud evil. Evil like Ronan, who wouldn’t stop talking about how he wanted everyone dead, evil like Ego, who explained his whole big plan before trying to use Peter like a battery. But this is quiet, everyone knows about it but they won’t say anything because it gets them a profit.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Peter jumps when Gamora puts her hand on his shoulder, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

 

She looks at him and narrows her gaze like she’s searching for something in his face, “You need to be ready for this.”

 

“I am!”

 

“I’m not sure if you are, but I trust you.”

 

Peter looks up to the front viewport again. The planet is closer now, it’s surface is taking up more and more of the viewport, like it’s swallowing them whole.

 

“We’re gettin’ close,” Kraglin speaks into the comm.

 

Nebula calls back, “Is everyone prepared?”

 

Gamora answers for them both, “Affirmative. Rocket?”

 

“Finishin’ the detonator,” he calls back, “Drax?”

 

The only response is a grunt of approval, followed by the sound of a knife against a sharpening block; then he adds, “Mantis?”

 

“Oh! Yes, I am! I am down in the hangar.”

 

The entire ship shakes as they punch through the cloud cover. Underneath it, the planet isn’t much brighter. The buildings are close to the ground but spread out wide, almost like warehouses. The outer walls are stained in various shades of grey and black. There aren’t many ships coming and going, but Kraglin pilots the Quadrant down with confidence. One thing you learn from years of being a Ravager is that people won’t question someone who looks like they’re doing what they’re supposed to be doing. The landing kicks up ashy looking dust that coats the outside of the Quadrant.

 

“Ready?” Nebula calls over the comm, she doesn’t wait for a response before adding, “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rocket heads out first, bomb in his bag and Groot perched on his shoulder. The plan is to give him five minutes to get everything set up, then the two groups will head out. Peter spends the whole five minutes pacing around the hangar. The nervous energy is threatening to bubble up and over; walking helps burn some of it and he needs to be clear headed and focused for the mission.

 

“Peter,” Gamora puts her hand up in front of him, he comes to a stop just short of bumping into her, “It’s time.”

 

He nods and walks over to Drax, who opens up the hangar door. The building they’re looking for is off to their right, all Nebula gave for them to go on is ‘it’s large and filled with children, it is impossible to miss’. Peter moves slowly, making sure he always has cover if he needs it. The streets are mostly empty, Nebula’s contact promised that the middlemen like Four Eyes were all off planet. Drax, on the other hand, walks down the middle of the street like he’s been here a thousand times before.

 

“We’re ‘sposed to be sneaking!” Peter whisper-shouts at him.

 

“These people are cowards, hiding out here. I do not fear them.”

 

“But there’s a _plan!”_

 

“And I am following it.”

 

Peter groans, but keeps moving. They’re close to a building surrounded by small footprints in the sand when he hears the explosion. He grabs Drax and attempts to drag him out of the main road. It takes a few seconds but Drax gets the idea and ducks back out of sight. They can see a few people go running past. When Peter looks up, he can see the smoke from the explosion spiraling up to join the dark cloud cover above.

 

“Let’s go,” Peter whispers and points to the big warehouse looking building. Drax nods and steps back out into the street.

 

There aren’t any guards at the door, they’re probably all busy with Rocket, but Peter keeps his guns drawn anyway. It’s better to be paranoid and alive than lazy and dead. Drax has the same idea. He holds one of his knives in his teeth as he opens the door. The warehouse is dark and silent. For a second, Peter thinks they’re too late. It’s the only reason this planet would be so empty, things were going too easily.

 

Then, he taps his earpiece, activating his helmet. It automatically goes into night vision. A thousand eyes stare back at him. The sensors calibrate to the light level and he can make out the rest of the children. Some of them hold onto each other, some of them shield those behind them, some of them are curled, body taut and ready to attack.

 

“I’m… uh… here to help.”

 

A few of them blink, none of them look more comfortable after hearing the statement.

 

“Who are you talking to?” Drax asks.

 

“The kids.”

 

Peter taps another button on his helmet, turning on the flashlight. The light sensors in his helmet don’t catch up immediately but he can hear at least a few of the kids hissing. They jump back at the light like it burns. Drax makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a gasp. It must be worse than it looks through his helmet because he’s never heard Drax gasp before.

 

“Start getting them out, I’ll stay here and make sure no one else comes.”

 

Drax nods and crouches down in front of the first group of the kids, “Come with me, we’re taking you somewhere safe.”

 

The one closest to him, a purple girl, looks up at him; she gives him a hollow stare and won’t stop shaking.

 

“It’s okay,” Peter starts, “You can trust us, we’re the good guys!”

 

The girl bites her lip, then turns back to the other kids, “Good idea?”

 

Some of the kids nod, some shake their heads, but apparently the yes vote wins because she stands up. A few others follow her, they link hands and trail after Drax like a parade of small shadows.

 

* * *

 

 

After the explosion, Nebula signals for them to move forward. They’re standing on a rooftop, some things don’t change and they both feel more comfortable at a high vantage point. The headquarters of the operation is about a mile in front of them, according to Nebula’s contact. The ringleader is a man by the name of Hestix. They don’t have a last name to go with the first name, but they do know that he spends most of his time in the building looming ahead. The horizon looks endless because of the grey sky and the grey dust covering the ground.

 

Gamora sprints as fast as she can and jumps to the roof of the next building. Nebula follows after, landing hard enough to crack the clay of the roof. It holds her weight, thank the void, because the last thing they need is Nebula falling through the roof because she’s more metal than flesh. When they get closer to the tallest building, Gamora unholsters her sword. Nebula gestures to the window near the top of the structure. Gamora nods and takes another running jump.

 

Her feet hit the wall first and she slides a bit before stabbing her sword into the wall. She hangs off of the sword for a second, then reaches up for an uneven seam jutting out of the face of the wall. Bracing her foot against it, she searches for another. Then, balancing on both footholds, she pulls the sword out of the wall, stabs it above her head, pulls herself up, and repeats the action. Nebula climbs up the wall easily, her fingers puncture the metal and her boots magnetize to the surface of it. She smirks down at Gamora from a vantage point next to the window.

 

“Coming, sister?”

 

Gamora groans, she promised not to do this on the mission but since when have Nebula’s promises meant anything? At least she waits until Gamora gets up to the window before breaking the glass. The top room looks like it’s used for meetings. Something this widespread obviously required a level of bureaucracy but it still seems strangely out of place. The room is empty, no alarms go off. It’s almost like they’re expecting them.

 

“Let’s go,” Nebula whispers and steps towards the staircase down.

 

“No,” Gamora grabs hold of her arm, Nebula stays in place only as a courtesy. If she really wanted to, she could rip Gamora’s arm from its socket.

 

“Did you sell us out?” she narrows her gaze, watching her sister’s face for any tell, “It feels like they’re expecting us.”

 

“I get the feeling you don’t trust me,” the corner of Nebula’s mouth quirks up, a strange smile, “But no, I didn’t. When would I have done it? I’ve been with you and your _guardians_ the whole time. Your friend’s move was stupid and impulsive, they must be on high alert because of his actions.”

 

Gamora lets go of Nebula’s arm, she does have a point but admitting it means admitting defeat. Nebula continues out to the spiraling staircase leading down to the lower levels. The level below them is empty, the level below that holds only one person. Nebula shoots the woman in the head before she even has time to draw her weapon. On the next level, they’re met with guns pointed at their heads.

 

“Nice of you to join us,” a man sitting behind the two guards speaks. He has his hands gently crossed on his lap like he’s in the middle of a business deal instead of an attempt on his life. He signals to the guards, who step back, allowing the girls into the room.

 

“I think there can be a happy ending to all of this,” Hestix smiles, “What say you to a billion Units worth of a happy ending?”

 

Nebula spits at his feet, “I would never make deals with you, slaver scum.”

 

“Watch how you talk to the boss!” One of the guards, a woman, presses the barrel of her gun to the back of Nebula’s neck.

 

“Calm down, don’t scare our guests. We may still be able to come to a resolution.”

 

The woman mutters something under her breath and lowers her gun. Then, Hestix taps the comm on his wrist, it must be linked to an earpiece because they can only hear half the conversation.

 

“Have you found the source?”

 

Hestix nods in response to what the other person said, “Well, I have two of them here.”

 

“There’s another _there?_ ”

 

He purses his lips and looks up at the roof for a second, “Understood. Chiaris, go to the warehouse.”

 

The woman behind Nebula nods and turns out of the room. Gamora bites back her worry, if she lets on that she knows something about what Peter and Drax are doing at the warehouse, it’ll just be worse for them. She can take a few rounds of torture, it’s nothing worse than Thanos’ practice for situations like this, but Peter is delicate for a Ravager and she has no idea how Drax reacts under pressure.

 

“Now where were we?” Hestix grins at them, “Oh, yes, we were making a deal. But _someone_ didn’t play fair. You see, you weren’t supposed to bring this many guests.”

 

Nebula bolts forward, only to be caught by the other guard. She stops, the guard isn’t actually restraining her, but he doesn’t seem to know that. She nods in Hestix’s direction, a motion that’s imperceptible to anyone other than Gamora. Before the guard can react, Gamora is already by Hestix’s side. She presses the blade of her sword against his neck.

 

Hestix squirms away from the blade and points to Nebula, “Kill her.”

 

The guard grabs either side of Nebula’s head and twists. Her neck snaps, the cracking noise makes Gamora flinch, more out of habit than actual concern. All of Nebula’s vital operators are contained in her skull, Thanos made sure of that. The man drops Nebula to the ground, and Gamora screams out. At this point in time, she realizes this was part of Nebula’s plan, the scream is just to sell it. Then, she drags the knife across Hestix’s neck, his blood spills thick and green onto the floor.

 

The guard lunges towards Gamora, only to be stopped by Nebula’s hand wrapping around his ankle. She squeezes hard, crushing the bone under her grip and sending him falling to the ground. She stands up and rolls her neck, allowing the metallic spine to fall back into its natural place.

 

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

 

All the color drains from the guard’s face. It’s an impressive feat for an orangey Krylorian. He fumbles for his gun but Gamora steps on his hand before he can reach it. Nebula flashes Gamora her strange smile before shooting him in the head. She rolls her neck again, cracking it once more.

 

“Let’s go,” Nebula turns towards the staircase.

 

The woman from before steps into the doorway and looks down at the body on the ground, mouth gaping, “Wha-what did you do?”

 

Nebula doesn’t respond, just shoots her in the head. She steps over the woman’s body to head down to the lowest floor. Gamora follows after; when she gets to the bottom floor, she taps her comm.

 

“Rocket, are you and Groot back at the ship?”

 

“Not yet, but most of the guards are dead. Should be easy to get back.”

 

“I am _Groot!_ ” Groot interrupts.

 

“You did get some of ‘em pretty good.”

 

Gamora switches channels, “Drax, what about you?”

 

“Most of the children are on the ship, I am going back to get the last of them now.”

 

“Mantis?”

 

“I am… I am with the children,” Mantis’ voice is quiet, “They are so scared and so sad, it fills the whole room. I do not even have to touch them to feel it. But I am helping.”

 

“Good job, we’ll be back soon,” Gamora has to admit she’s grown on her, just a bit. As long as she doesn’t touch her without asking first, Mantis isn’t a bad friend.

 

* * *

 

 

They continue on in the same way, Drax leads a group of kids out of the warehouse and Peter moves up to shine light on the next group of the kids. Drax has just left with the latest group of kids. Peter moves up and scans the rest of the kids. There aren’t too many left in the room, he still has the feeling that things are going a bit too easy. But, he can’t complain when things are going right.

 

Then, something hits his chest. The jolt of electricity crackles through his body, he can feel it in his fingertips and his toes. It shorts out his helmet, which retracts suddenly. _Huh,_ he thinks to himself, _that’s weird._ He drops to the ground, his limbs don’t feel like they’re really _his_ anymore. Peter’s legs twitch against his will and he realizes he’s been shot. Well, stunned. Whatever it is, it packs more of a punch than _his_ stun setting.

 

“Run!” he shouts out, hoping that A) the kids trust him enough to listen to him, and B) that whatever he’s saying isn’t completely garbled by all the electricity surging through him. Getting electrocuted can do some weird things to you.

 

He can make out the form of one of the kids bolting for the light of the door, but the kid drops to the ground with a flash of electricity. The energy still crackles off of his body, glowing in the dark of the room. The lights come up and Peter blinks, trying to readjust. It hurts to move his head and he isn’t even going to think about trying to sit up yet. He can see boots heading towards him.

 

One of those boots lifts up and comes down on his chest. The woman wearing the boots doesn’t press down hard enough to break ribs, but it’s hard enough that he can’t breathe. His fingernails dig into the dirt floor of the warehouse. The woman leans down and presses the barrel of her gun against the soft underside of his jaw.

 

“So you’re the one who’s been fuckin’ things up for us?”

 

She said _one._ Peter figures that’s a good sign, maybe they don’t know about the others. They can probably still get out of here and this whole mission won’t be for nothing. The woman stands back up and steps off of his chest, he gulps down air and turns his head to look at the kids. Most of them look terrified.

 

“I’m gonna go tell the boss that we got one o’ em,” she says.

 

Well, there goes his plan of letting everyone escape without him. Whoever’s in charge knows that he isn’t alone.

 

Someone he can’t see says, “Understood, Chiaris.”

 

The woman, Chiaris, smirks, “In the meantime, I won’t say anythin’ about the _condition_ of our prisoner, long as you won’t, if you know what I mean?”

 

The other voice laughs, “Oh yes, I think I know _exactly_ what you mean.”

 

The room falls silent after the door shuts. Peter climbs to his feet, his legs threaten to give out under him, but he still has his guns. He pulls one out, his fingers still aren’t cooperating with him but he can hold it and he can definitely pull the trigger. The laughing starts up again and the source of the laughter sits up from where he’d been leaning against the wall.

 

Peter trains his gun on the man and pulls the trigger, but nothing happens.

 

“Blast shorted it out,” the man grins, “Jus’ like it shorted out yer fancy helmet.”

 

Peter swallows hard and drops the gun to the ground, reaching for the knife on his hip.

 

“Now, Chiaris might like her guns, but I jus’ love the feelin’ of bones breakin’ under my hands.”

 

The man is faster than he looks, Peter dodges but he stumbles in the process. He brings the knife up, cutting the man’s arm. Blood drips to the dusty floor. The man blinks, once, twice, then swings at Peter, striking him in the jaw. His head whips to the side with a cracking noise that can’t mean anything good. Peter spits blood out and steps backwards.

 

“That… That all you got?” he still can’t catch his breath but his instincts took over a few minutes ago.

 

The man just grins and lunges forward again. Peter raises his knife above his head, but the man catches his wrist. He squeezes tighter and tighter until Peter’s forced to drop it. Then, the man shoves him down and kneels, pinning Peter against the floor. He wraps his hands around Peter’s neck and presses his thumbs against the same place Chiaris pointed the barrel of her gun.

 

His vision starts to go dark and he can hear screaming. For a second, he’s pretty sure he’s the one screaming, but it’s pretty high pitched for him. Then, he can breathe again. The man slumps forward onto him and he can feel warm blood on his face. He pushes against the man and tries to squirm out from under him.

 

He can hear movement in the room and just hopes that it isn’t Chiaris coming back again. Instead, someone pulls the man off of him. In fact, it’s a group of someones. The children roll the man over and one leans over him, listening to see if he’s still breathing. Standing at Peter’s feet is a girl, holding his bloody knife.

 

Her hands are shaking, but she stands upright and confident. Her skin is blue, more ashy looking than Yondu’s but it’s probably because she was kept in the dark. Her fin flares up; it’s ragged, ripped in a few places, but still a brilliant red.

 

“Quill!”  


Peter sits up at the sound of Drax’s voice.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“Yeah,” he rubs his neck, trying to push away the feeling of the man’s hands around his throat, “I’m good. Let’s get out of here.”

 

He stands up and nudges the kids in the direction of the door. The girl stays behind, still clutching onto the knife as tight as she can.

 

Peter kneels down in front of her, “It’s okay, you can let go of it, he’s dead.”

 

The girl looks down at him and blinks, then passes him the knife with shaking hands. Peter stands back up and offers his hand to her. She looks at it, the same way Whisper did when he first met them, then grabs it.

 

* * *

 

 

She doesn’t say a word until she’s on the ship. The other children stayed down in the hangar with Mantis, but she refused to let go of Peter’s arm. So, he brought her up to the bridge. He sits down at one of the chairs and props his feet up on the table. It’s been a long day.

 

“Get us outta here, Kraglin,” Peter sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

 

Kraglin turns around in the pilot’s seat, “Where you wanna go?”

 

“Somewhere safe for the kids.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Kraglin doesn’t sound to impressed, “Probably Xandar then, you can call us in a Nova Corps favor since you’re all buddy buddy wi’ them.”

 

The girl makes a high pitched trilling noise, followed by three quick sets of double clicks.

 

Nebula grimaces at the sound, “I think this child is malfunctioning.”

 

“No, I think she’s talkin’... But I dunno what she’s sayin’...” Peter says.

 

“Dunno,” Rocket replies, “She got a universal translator?”

 

“The rest of the children seemed to have one,” Drax adds.

 

Kraglin locks the ship on autopilot and walks over to the table, “She’s speakin’ Centaurian.”

 

“You understand her?” Peter gives him a wide eyed look.

 

“Naw, not really,” Kraglin kneels down next to her, “Yondu taught me some but none o’ this.”

 

“You don’t understand?” she cocks her head and her fin flares again, “But you’re like me. Just pink. Are you sick?”

 

Kraglin’s hand reaches up on impulse, touching the prototype fin. It’s almost second nature now, he’s still horrible with the Yaka arrow, but he’s used to it being on.

 

“No, uh,” he leans forward so the girl can touch it, “It was my friend’s.”

 

She reaches out and touches it, then pulls back like it’s sharp, “It’s cold!”

 

“Yeah, s’metal.”

 

She furrows her brows, “Metal?”

 

“My friend,” Kraglin swallows hard, “He, uh, he was from a place like this. Got it cut off, so we made ‘im a new one. An’ now it’s mine.”

 

The girl nod solemnly, her fin folds back, flat against her head, “They tried. But they could not do it. I was too fast.”

 

Kraglin smiles, “I bet you was.”

 

“Where is he?”

 

He knew the question was coming but it doesn’t make it any easier, “He’s dead. But Pete’s his son an’ he helped save you an’ your friends.”

 

“I know many who died,” she nods again, “What was his name?”

 

“Yondu. Yondu Udonta. You got a name?”

 

“Not anymore.”

 

“I think,” Kraglin puts a hand on her shoulder, “You oughta choose one. Don’t hafta do it right away but you oughta choose.”

 

She nods, “Yuno. I choose Yuno. Like your friend, I will be more than a slave.”

 

“I think he’d like that,” Kraglin smiles at her again and wipes a stray tear from his eyes. Then he stands up, on the way out of the room he brushes past Peter.

 

“We’re keepin’ her around,” he whispers, “An’ maybe Whisper too, since they took a likin’ to ya.”

 

“I thought you weren’t soft,” Peter smirks. He knows this is different, but it’d be weird to just leave it at that. So, Kraglin punches his arm and gives him a look that can only mean _don’t talk back to me, boy._ Still, Yuno did save his life and adopting a kid is one hell of a way to make things up to Yondu.

He stands up, it’s not necessary but he _is_ the captain now, “Yuno’s crew. We’ll help the rest of the kids find homes, but she’s crew.”

 

“You’re going to raise a child on a ship?” Gamora furrows her brows.

 

“ _We’re_ going to raise a child on a ship,” Peter corrects her.

 

“That’s a horrible idea.”

 

Peter shrugs, “I was raised on a ship and I turned out just fine.”

 

Gamora crosses her arms, “That’s debatable. But I suppose we could try it out.”

 

“I’m… Crew?” Yuno looks up at Peter.

 

“Yeah, that means you’re stayin’ with us.”

 

She grins, puffing up her fin, “I’m crew!”


End file.
